


no angels could beckon me back

by wintervoice



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Discussions of Love, M/M, no declarations because we're all emotionally repressed here but they discuss it, see notes - Freeform, supplemental drabble for an ongoing epistolary fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintervoice/pseuds/wintervoice
Summary: Poe finally put down his notebook. “You think love is…what? Synapses firing?”“Essentially,” he shrugged. “But it’s not about what I think. It’s about what science tells us.”
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	no angels could beckon me back

**Author's Note:**

> this is a supplemental drabble for my ongoing epistolary fic [searching](https://twitter.com/alderaanson/status/1231344749031768064)! someday i will upload searching here, but that's a long, tedious process so you can find it on twitter for the time being. i highly recommend reading it before you read this as it won't make much sense otherwise.

“Okay,” Poe said, though judging from the tone of his voice it was not okay. He was very obviously frustrated. “So you’re saying that you don’t believe in love?”

Ben brought his coffee mug to his lips to hide his smile. He took a very slow, deliberate sip and set it down again once he felt comfortable his features were impassive. “I believe that norepinephrine and dopamine can simulate euphoria.”

The television droned on, some rerun of some sitcom Ben didn’t care for playing on Netflix. The coffee table and floor were littered with Poe’s research. A healthy amount of Ben’s own work was mixed in now, but at — he glanced at his watch — 2:45 AM, it was a little hard to focus on the task at hand. He was reclined on the couch while Poe sat on the floor, one arm propped up on the coffee table, legs stretched out, rubbing his eyes. His hair was uncharacteristically messy, his mouth drawn into a frown, and there were twin shadows in the shape of dark, exhausted half moons beneath his eyes. It was...endearing. Cute, even. Something inside of Ben’s chest felt buoyant when he looked at Poe like this. 

“So?”

“So euphoria is just a manipulation of brain chemistry,” Ben continued. He was probably having too much fun with this, taking advantage of the fact that Poe wasn’t quite used to surviving on little to no sleep. 

Poe finally put down his notebook. “You think love is…what? Synapses firing?”

“Essentially,” he shrugged. “But it’s not about what I think. It’s about what science tells us.” 

Poe stared at him blankly for a long moment before his forehead creased in confusion. His frown deepened. He grumbled something to himself that Ben didn’t quite catch before saying, “I don’t like you.”

Ben wasn’t shocked by this outburst, but he made a show of sounding offended. “You don’t?”

“No,” Poe rose from his spot on the ground slowly, stretching his arms above his head. His t-shirt shirt rode up just enough that Ben caught a flash of the golden skin of his abdomen. “You’re an extremely unlikeable person.”

Ben laughed. Actually laughed. It was a short, somewhat awkward and goofy sound. He’d never liked this laugh, had always felt insecure about it, but again, it was 2:45 in the morning. “I’m wounded.”

He watched Poe close the distance between them with two short steps. Ben had to tilt back to hold his gaze and Poe took full advantage, leveraging one hand on Ben’s shoulder and burying the other in his hair. He tugged impatiently, forcing Ben to arch his neck as he straddled Ben’s lap. 

“This is odd behavior for someone who doesn’t like me.” Ben’s voice was a little strained, but he rested his hand on Poe’s hip anyway. 

Poe hummed in agreement, leaning forward. He kissed Ben, insistent and demanding, and Ben part his lips obediently. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of Poe’s shirt. 

“Alright, Dr. Solo,” Poe’s lips trailed down Ben’s throat. “Which parts of your brain are lighting up now?” 

“Not a doctor,” Ben quickly corrected. “But if you really want to know, the lateral orbitofrontal cortex is starting to slow down. That’s the part of your brain that controls logical decision making.”

Poe’s teeth scraped along his neck before he pulled back, tugging at Ben’s hair again so that Ben was forced to look up at him. “Are you saying sex makes you stupid?”

Ben’s tried to lean forward for another kiss and huffed when he was denied by the quick turn of Poe’s chin. “It makes _me_ stupid.” 

His hair was finally released. Whether he was impatient from exhaustion or the continued explanations, Ben wasn’t sure, but Ben squirmed when Poe’s hand ran down the length of his chest and abdomen, grazed his cock through his jeans. He ran his palm back and forth in a slow, lazy rhythm over Ben’s crotch. “And now?”

“Um,” Ben said eloquently, “this is more about endorphins. Vasopressin. Oxytocin. All three stimulate—” 

Poe squeezed and Ben stopped short with a quiet gasp. “Ben?” 

He looked up to find Poe smiling. “Yeah?”

“Shut up.” 

Ben was tempted to point out that it was Poe who demanded an explanation, but he didn't think that will do much good. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Poe’s waist and twisted, realigning them in one quick movement so that Poe was on his back and Ben was angled above him, bearing his weight on his knees and a hand braced next to Poe’s head. He used the other to trace the line of Poe’s jaw. Ben could see the full scope of Poe’s fatigue this close. He really needed to unwind and relax so he could get some sleep.

And Ben didn't need to talk to help with that. 


End file.
